Tuesday, July 30, 2013

Red Letter Day

I must share this. As soon as it happened I realized that even though some of you out there know who I am, this is too hilarious not to make fun of myself.

Yesterday will be memorialized on my calendar forever. I may have a plaque made, not sure yet.
I, Highlander, farted into my own vagina on July 29th, 2013 at approximately 11:23 pm. Don't ask me how this came about, I won't say, but it is 100% confirmed by my husband and I.
Farted into my own cout. Super special moment, and my life is forever changed. I'm sure there's money to be made with some fetishist somewhere (probably Japan) but I'll pass.

The best part about this and what mandated I blog ASAP? The exchange in the next room shortly have my historic act. I farted again. Shoot me, it happens and it will always be funny.

Husband: Man, if you were a boxer you'd be Gaseous Clay!
Pause for laughter from me.
Me: I've got good buttwork.
Husband: And if you converted to Nation of Islam you'd be  Mohammed Al Queef.
At this point it's almost midnight and I'm doubled over laughing so hard I'm nearly crying and holding in yet another "contribution" that the giggles nearly dislodged.

Sometimes you just can't make this shit up.

Other excellent parallel we've made since:
If I was a painter I would be Georgia O'Queef. Works on two levels, one is pretty art history nerdy.

I'm open to suggestions. (Did you know there's a fart thesaurus? "Bratwurst butt belch" is just one item you'll find on it.)

Lie to tell children: Sesquicentennial is the balls of Sasquatch. If anyone invites you to a sesquicentennial celebration, tell an adult.

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